


Flagrante

by CaptainSongbird



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Berlin lives, Brought to you by my crippling insomnia, Drabble Collection, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Set in Part 3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:53:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23647255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainSongbird/pseuds/CaptainSongbird
Summary: Basically, 5 times Berlin and Palermo "got caught" and 1 time they didn't. Set in Part 3, Berlin lives AU.(The chapters don’t follow a particular chronological order and can be read separately)
Relationships: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa & Palermo | Martín, Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín
Comments: 114
Kudos: 402





	1. Nairobi

Nairobi could still hear the previous argument echoing in the monastery’s stone walls. She had encouraged Tokyo to go and talk to the Professor about the faulty hierarchy of the gang, and as she left Stockholm in Tokyo’s room, she figured she might as well go ahead and give a piece of her mind to Palermo, who had been as insufferable as ever that night, resorting to his pathological misogyny. She had never been to Palermo’s room, but she knew that it was straight across the hall from Berlin’s. She strutted confidently towards the door, not even hesitating as she turned the handle.

She instantly regretted her bravado, as her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room. Palermo was on his knees with Berlin towering over him, his head thrown back in pleasure. They wouldn’t have noticed her, had it not been the very audible gasp that escaped her lips as soon as she realized what she had just walked in on.

Neither of the men appeared particularly concerned with the sudden interruption. If his mouth hadn’t been full, Palermo would have immediately come up with a humorous quip. He took his time letting go of Berlin’s very own _patriarchy_ , with a loud pop that would surely antagonize their uninvited guest. In turn, Berlin closed his maroon satin robe with a whimsical flourish.

“Our dearest Nairobi. What a shame that this is how you found out about our liaison.” Berlin smiled, holding his hand out to Palermo so he could stand up. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your unheralded visit?”

“Well, I…” she stuttered, completely devoid of her usual wittiness. “I came in here to put Palermo in his place.”

“A very admirable and yet superfluous pursuit.” Berlin nodded, chuckling as he sat down in Palermo’s bed. “As you saw, I am perfectly capable of putting Palermo in his place.”

Nairobi assented with a short nod before slowly turning around.

“Good luck getting that image out of your head, _cariño_.” Palermo mocked, as Nairobi closed the door behind her. “ _Buenas noches_!”

She made her way towards her bedroom, pondering about what she had just seen. Even though Palermo was technically in charge of the heist, he would always follow Berlin’s orders. Nairobi sighed in relief as she realized that, despite all his imperfections, Berlin was a good enough leader. He had gotten them out of the Mint, and that was enough for her.

Back in Palermo’s room, the Argentine had devotedly gone back to his previous engagement, somehow even more enthusiastically than before. Berlin, however, seemed to be distracted.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, gently resting his palms on the other man’s thighs with a slight squeeze.

“Do you think she’s going to tell anyone?” Berlin asked, almost forgetting his own question as he took in the sight of Martín kneeling before him.

“The poor girl won’t tell a soul, she’s traumatized.” Martín stood up to place a delicate kiss on Andrés’ cheek. “And besides, even if she did, the solemn Professor has already broken his sacred no relationships rule with the Inspectora. Denver and Stockholm have a child. And I’m pretty sure Bogotá has a thing for Nairobi. It’s like we’re living in one of those cheesy reality shows where everyone sleeps with everyone.”

Andrés chuckled, before closing the distance between them with a passionate kiss. No matter how many times they kissed, Martín would always feel breathless, as he did years ago in that same monastery.

“Now, my _ingeniero_. Care to finish what you started?”

“I would be delighted to, _señor_.”

And with that, Martín was back on his knees, showing his adoration the best way he could. _A masterful fellatio from a man with great skill_.


	2. Denver and Stockholm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pure fluff. Might be a bit OOC, but I had the time of my life writing this. Enjoy!

“Andrés, is there any chance that I was under the influence of heavy drugs when I agreed to do this?”

Tied up in a chair in the middle of his own bedroom, Martín felt slightly ridiculous as little Cincinnati pointed a fake revolver at him. The little boy seemed delighted with the prospect of being in charge of something so important, especially when most of the times he was scared of the older man.

“Cinci, our hostage is a bit talkative, isn’t he?” Andrés paused, looking up from his sketchbook and smiling. “Tell him to be quiet, otherwise I won’t be able to draw you.”

The little boy put a finger to his lips and shushed him, aiming the pistol at Martín’s head. Andrés went back to his drawing, and Martín defiantly wheeled the chair away from Cincinnati.

“ _Libre, como el sol cuando amanece, yo soy libre como el mar._ ” He started to sing, which resulted in Cincinnati chasing him around the room, giggling with excitement. “ _Libre como el ave que escapó de su prisión y puede al fin volar!_ ”

Andrés couldn’t help but smile at the endearing sight before him. Seeing Martín so happy and carefree made him fall in love with the Argentine all over again. He mused over the distant concept of them becoming parents. Martín was surprisingly good with kids, to everyone’s dismay. He tried to hide it, but he genuinely enjoyed being around Cincinnati. And so, when Denver and Stockholm kindly asked them to babysit their son during date night, he immediately complied, an adorable smile lighting up his face.

“ _Señor_ Berlin, the hostage is loose!” The little boy squealed, as Martín freed himself from the ropes and picked him up swiftly.

“I’m sorry, _pequeño atracador_ , but it seems that your bedtime is approaching.” Martín used his most tender voice, trying to calm the boy down after an exhilarating evening. “Let’s get you ready for bed, shall we?”

Andrés observed them affectionately, as Martín helped Cincinnati change into his pyjamas. He followed them into the bathroom, where the three had an ambitious race to see who could brush their teeth the fastest. When he noticed that Andrés was in the lead, Martín elbowed him softly, glancing at little Cinci who seemed eager to win.

They had brought Cincinnati’s crib from Denver and Stockholm’s room, but as soon as Andrés set him down, he immediately stood up and tried to escape. Martín rushed to his side, picking him up and sitting him down between Andrés and himself, on his own bed.

“What seems to be the problem, Cincinnati? Do your parents usually read you a story?” Martín asked, to which the boy replied by shaking his head.

“I want to lay down with you.” He pleaded with an adorable pout.

Andrés and Martín exchanged a look, not sure of what to do. Andrés slowly stood up, figuring that was his cue to retire to his own bedroom, but the boy reached for his hand, stopping him in his tracks. “Stay with us.”

He took some time to consider the young boy’s request. Stockholm and Denver shouldn’t take too long, and at least once he was asleep, they could easily transfer him to his crib. He nodded agreeably, laying down beside Martín, with Cincinnati in the middle. Almost immediately, little Cinci closed his eyes, holding on to Martín’s shirt.

“You’d make a good father.” Andrés whispered, reaching out to hold Martín’s hand.

“I don’t know, I always saw myself as something of a cool uncle.” Martín smiled, leaning against his forehead. “But I must admit this little guy has an odd effect on me.”

“An adorable effect. I thought I couldn’t possibly love you more, but tonight has showed me that I still have much to learn about Martín Berrote. Much to love.” He whispered, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his lips.

They both intended to stay awake until Cincinnati’s parents returned, but the dark room and comfortable mattress weren’t helping, as both of their eyelids felt heavy. They eventually fell asleep minutes later, in that same position, with the little boy softly snoring between them.

A full half hour later, Stockholm and Denver knocked gingerly on Palermo’s door, assuming their little boy would already be asleep. When no one replied, Denver took the initiative and softly pushed the door open, stepping into the ill-lighted room. He returned seconds later, with an appalled look.

“Mónica, do you think I’ve had too much to drink tonight?” Denver asked, still trying to process what he saw.

“Well, we did finish that bottle of red wine, but what’s going on?” She asked, before stepping into the room herself.

The first thing she saw was Berlin’s sketchbook, illuminated by the moonlight from the window above Palermo’s desk. She slowly approached the desk, picking up the sketchbook to look at the latest drawing. In it, Palermo was tied up in a chair, and little Cincinnati was pointing a gun at him, an endearing smile lighting up both of their faces. Mónica herself couldn’t help it, letting out a soft “aw” as she set the book down. Denver had joined her, and he still had that astonished expression from before.

They slowly walked towards Palermo’s bed, and Mónica finally saw what had shocked Denver in the first place. Their son was sound asleep, lying between Berlin and Palermo, united by their foreheads and holding hands, also asleep.

“So, I’m not dreaming. Palermo and Berlin are actually together.” Denver stated, matter-of-factly, as though saying it out loud would help him process the information.

“They do make a cute couple.” Mónica smiled, leaning against her husband. “I think we should leave him here, otherwise we’ll wake up all three of them.”

Denver wasn’t too happy with the idea of leaving their son with two sociopaths for the night, but Mónica was right. Additionally, seeing the two of them lying there so vulnerable, so _human_ , made him reconsider his perception of the two masterminds behind the ambitious Bank heist.

Mónica picked up a blanket and placed it softly over the three of them, before taking Denver’s hand and leading him out of the bedroom. The following morning’s breakfast would surely be interesting, she mused.


	3. Lisbon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. I’ve stumbled upon some bad news recently, and I’m still recovering. This chapter was part of my coping process, and I seriously hope it brings us all some much-needed joy.

Raquel adored the sound of rain and the sense of peace and tranquillity that it brought to her turbulent life. She had been missing her Paulita and her own mother a lot in the past few days, and the rainy mood was helping her to relax and go into a sort of meditative state. She was sitting alone in the monastery’s library, staring through the window in front of her. She didn’t notice Palermo quietly opening and closing the door behind him. He made his way towards the table, sitting down across from her.

“Oh, Palermo!” Raquel was startled by his sudden interruption. “What are you doing here?”

“It occurred to me that, in all the years I’ve lived here, I’ve never really delved through the monks’ vast collection. And since we had the evening off, I figured I’d come here and judge the literary tastes of our quiet cohabitants.”

Raquel couldn’t help but chuckle at Palermo’s comment. He was still a mystery to her, but if Sergio was to be trusted, the Argentine had a temper and an ego to be reckoned with. Of course, Sergio himself was far from being perfectly selfless, and therefore Raquel decided to draw her own conclusions, in her own time.

“If you’re looking for the latest edition of the Kama Sutra, you’ll be disappointed.” She smiled, knowing that Palermo would enjoy her humorous response.

“It doesn’t surprise me that you’d be looking to spice up your sex life.” He mocked, setting his elbows on the table and supporting his chin on his hands, curiously. “Tell me, how is The Professor in bed?”

“You’d be surprised.” She started, mimicking his pose. “How does the saying go? About freaks in the sheets?”

“Well, I once offered to suck him off, and he seemed genuinely traumatized by my proposition. I’m happy to know that you had such a good influence on him.” There was a sincere smile on his face, much different from his usual patronizing smirk. That could only mean one thing: he had been drinking, and therefore didn’t have the strength to act as the misogynistic asshole they all knew so well.

“Why are you really here, Palermo?” Raquel asked, looking into his tired eyes. In the dim light of the library, only a trained eye could tell that he had been crying not long ago. And Raquel knew all too well about the aftermath of crying, unfortunately.

“I had a fight.” He avoided Raquel’s careful stare, choosing to look at his own hands. “With Berlin.”

The former inspector nodded, processing the information she had been given. The true nature of Berlin and Palermo’s relationship was unknown to her, and Sergio didn’t seem too keen on revealing what he knew. It was clear that there was _something_ , but if they really were together, they were tremendously good at hiding it.

“What happened?” She was cautious in the choice of her words, aware that a wrong question would scare him off and their conversation would be over much too soon.

“He’s a coward.” His voice was barely audible, the hesitation clearly present in his mumble. “He’s ashamed of us, of our relationship. Ashamed of me.”

Raquel had never seen him look so defeated, so vulnerable. She reached across the table to hold his hands, forcing him to look into her eyes.

“Would you like to talk about it? It may help.” Her voice was soft and inviting, and Palermo desperately needed a shoulder to cry on.

“I just want to hold his hand in public, like you and Sergio or Denver and Stockholm. Is it too much to ask?” He took a deep breath, building up the courage to continue. “I don’t want to sneak around at night, hiding behind doors and dark corners.”

“Has he always been this way?” Raquel asked, acknowledging that Berlin wasn’t the most affective, at least in public. “So reserved when it comes to his relationships?”

Palermo scoffed instantly, memories of Berlin’s five weddings flooding his mind. Each and every one of them had scarred Martín profoundly, but he had learned to heal those wounds, over time.

“He certainly wasn’t so secretive with Inés, or Julie, or Renée, or Francesca, or Tatiana.” He spit out the names like the poor women were to blame. Had he met them in any other circumstance, he would have probably gotten along with most of them. But being introduced as Berlin’s fiancée provoked an irrational anger in Martín, and he never managed to be around them for more than an hour or two.

“I’m assuming that you tried to talk to him about it, and it didn’t go too well.” She probed, wondering if she had gone too far.

“That’s why I’m here, slightly hammered and talking about my feelings like a lovesick teenager.” He chuckled before proceeding. “You know what it’s like, don’t you? To love someone this much. To place him in that unreachable pedestal, adoring him like an ethereal being that is above this fucked up world. You hold on to every word they speak, to every caress in the afterglow, because you’re too afraid that it might be the last. You measure your words and your actions carefully, afraid to scare him off with excessive eagerness, but you can barely contain all the love inside your heart. So you try to give him his space, hoping he comes around when he’s done with being an egotistical bastard. And when he does, you feel so lucky that you’re the object of his adoration, you almost forget all the pain he has caused.”

He looked up at Raquel, and her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. That little speech was so familiar to her, every word so relatable. It should be of no surprise, given the similarities of the two brothers. Suddenly, Raquel felt inclined to forgive all of his malicious rants.

Raquel sniffed slightly before looking at Palermo with a determined stare. She firmly held on to his hands, feeling intangibly connected to him.

“Listen to me. We are more than mere pawns in their games. We are not inferior to them, in any way, and you should never bow down to him like a loyal subject, especially when he’s wrong. Fight back, like you would if anyone else was standing up to you. And remember that you’re not alone, okay? You can always talk to me, about anything.”

Palermo nodded effusively, the gratitude in his eyes escaping in the form of a single tear. He slowly stood up, giving Raquel a short hug before leaving the library.

Later that night, when they all gathered in the dining room for the last meal of the day, she smiled upon noticing that Berlin and Palermo were holding hands, discreetly, yet perceptibly to anyone who would spare them a second glance. She exchanged a knowing look with Palermo, as he mouthed a quiet “thank you” from across the table. The unspoken promise lingered in the air, and they both knew that that was the start of a remarkable friendship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this one! I had to namedrop myself in the list of Berlin's wives, so bonus points to whoever figures out which one is mine :P   
> This was a bit angsty, but I had to get all these feelings out of my system. As always, kudos and comments brighten my day and inspire me to keep going! Hope everyone is doing well xx


	4. Helsinki

Lunchtime at the monastery was always delightfully chaotic. The long wooden table in the luminous patio had witnessed everything, from sentimental toasts to vociferous arguments. On one particularly warm afternoon, the group had been bonding over stories from the two years they had been apart. Palermo wasn’t paying attention; he didn’t know these people, and therefore had no interest in the silly anecdotes. He sat between Lisbon and Bogotá, with Berlin right across from him. His beloved seemed to be enthralled with the conversation, and while he did appreciate seeing him so happy, he wasn’t fond of the way he had been flirting with pretty much every single woman at the table.

Andrés’ flirtatious disposition wasn’t unknown to him. Over the years, he had watched helplessly as he seduced beautiful women with an alarming success rate. These women, however, posed a more serious threat to Martín: they had been by Andrés’ side at the Mint, and he was still oblivious to what kind of relationships they developed during the heist.

Martín knew he had to get his attention somehow, and so he tried to pay attention to the current conversation. The hulking Serbian man, Helsinki, was talking about old war wounds, when Nairobi suggested that he showed them his pet. Martín’s curious gaze landed on the man’s belly, adorned with an impressively detailed bear tattoo. His smirk caught Andrés’ attention, and the Argentinian knew it was time.

“Hey big guy, you want me to tame that little bear of yours? I’m good at taming animals.” His voice was suddenly thunderous in the awkward silence.

Helsinki was dumbstruck by Palermo’s obscene proposition. The brilliant engineer had never even spoken directly to him before, and everyone else seemed just as shocked as he was. He produced a small smile towards him, before gently sitting back down. As he considered Palermo’s offer, he didn’t notice that Berlin’s face had grown abnormally stern.

Martín was deliberately avoiding Andrés’ stare, choosing to start a conversation with Bogotá about gold melting techniques. Soon, lunchtime was over and they began tidying up, knowing that the Professor would not tolerate tardiness in the afternoon class. Palermo and Berlin were on kitchen duty, and the former just knew that he was deliciously in trouble.

Everyone scattered towards their rooms, hoping to indulge in a thirty-minute _siesta_ before class, leaving the undisclosed couple alone. Martín had barely rinsed the first dish when he felt Andrés’ body looming over him, eventually pressing himself against his back.

“Care to tell me what the fuck was that?” He spat, eliciting a shiver from the shorter man.

If Andrés was swearing, that meant that Martín had _really_ struck a nerve. He turned around to face him, his eyes glistening defiantly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, _corazón_.” His hands roamed Andrés’ back in a soothing massage.

“Don’t play dumb, Martín.” He leaned in closer, the distance between them practically inexistent. “What are you playing at, huh? Am I not good enough for you?”

Martín wanted to speak, to tell Andrés that it was his fault, but he couldn´t do it. Not when a significant portion of his blood was heading southward and he couldn’t think straight anymore. So instead, his hands grabbed on to the taller man’s neck as he lunged forward, capturing his lips in a swift motion.

“You know I’m yours, Andrés.” He whispered, breaking the kiss to lean his forehead against his. “I was trying to divert your attention from the lovely ladies of our group, and I guess it worked.”

“You sly little minx.” Andrés chuckled warmly, and then lowered his voice. “I would have you right here on this counter screaming my name, if it were not for our lovely housemates.”

“You’re overestimating your prowess and seriously underestimating my ability to keep quiet. As a man of science, I demand we test your hypothesis.” Martín smiled, staring at the ceiling and wondering about the soundproofing of stone walls.

“And how will we evaluate the results? Shall I prepare a survey to inquire our poor team?” Andrés couldn’t hide his attraction to Martín’s intelligence, which was particularly bothersome in class, when Martín would go over the technical details of the plan.

“I think we can judge our performance based on the death glare your brother sends us once we step into the classroom.”

\---

Helsinki lied on his back, listening to Nairobi’s peaceful snoring. He had been tossing and turning for the last five minutes, contemplating Palermo’s offer. He would be lying if he said he didn’t find the shorter man attractive. However, he had seen the way Palermo looked at Berlin, and he recognized that look. He wasn’t quite sure about the nature of their relationship, but he knew they were more than friends. Determined to find out just what Palermo had meant, Helsinki leapt from his bed and walked calmly towards the kitchen. 

The kitchen door was closed, which was odd. The entrance to common areas of the monastery was often open, the bedrooms being the only location that provided them with some sort of privacy. As he approached the sturdy wooden door, he immediately blushed, which would have been embarrassing if anyone were to witness it.

No matter how quiet Martín insisted he could be, even the most innocent of minds would quickly find out what was going on, just from the soft sighs that escaped Martín’s lips. Any doubts that Helsinki had about the engineer’s current companion were rapidly dissipated by the many stifled variations of “Oh, Andrés!” that could be heard in the adjacent room. The Serbian man forced himself to move away, still entranced by the sweet siren call of Palermo’s moans. Just like a sailor at sea, he knew there was trouble beyond that door. He wasn’t scared of much in this world, but he knew better than to provoke Berlin’s wrath, his temper bordering on _animalistic_.

As he walked back to his room, he couldn’t help but smile at the irony of the situation. Palermo was, indeed, _good at taming animals_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait, these past few weeks have been CHAOTIC. I've been actively reading other fics in this fandom and I am just blown away by the T A L E N T.  
> I have to mention my personal favorite, that I binge read just yesterday before bed. If you haven't yet, please go read boom_slap's "There's something wretched about this". 10/10 would read again and cry like a little baby at the end (like I did).
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter and hopefully I'll be able to post more after this week is done! Stay safe everyone xx

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are more than welcome! Thank you for reading!  
> This work was inspired by many of the wonderful fics I have read over the past few days, with special mentions to Blizzaurus’ Nights in Florence and dashwood’s somebody told me.


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